“You better learn to scream my name because you’ll be doing it a lot,” I said as I jumped up.
“David!”
“Run, little girl. Run for my bed,” I said as I swatted her butt.
We were each a giggling mess as we ran for the bedroom.
I have started to think I should make decisions more often. This was the third one I’d made in the last 24 hours. First, I was going to school at Michigan; second, I would do most of my own stunts in the James Bond movie; and third, I’d agreed to a hook-up arrangement with Lexi. All of which made me a happy boy.
◊◊◊ Sunday January 15
I rolled over and found Lexi glued to her phone with a frown on her face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You’re leaving today. They don’t need you for anything with the J-drama.”
“That’s good, right?” I asked.
“You’re leaving,” she said again, and then sighed. “I’d selfishly hoped that you would stay an extra day so we could … you know.”
She was cute when she got bashful like that.
“Have mind-blowing sex?”
She wouldn’t look at me.
“When do I have to leave?” I asked.
“Two hours.”
“Let’s make the most of it,” I suggested.
Her squealing and putting me into a lip-lock must have meant ‘yes.’
◊◊◊
“Did you two …?” Manaia asked when he saw Lexi and me come to the kitchen from my wing of the house.
I think us both having wet hair was a dead giveaway. I just gave him a look. Then I noticed that Paul was with him. Paul shook his head and reached for another doughnut. Lexi must have told Manaia to pick them up because they were all Boston creams, my favorite.
As I was about to bite into my first one, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I knew where it was from: it was an Indianapolis area code. I hit my recording app and answered.
“This is David,” I said.
“I have good news,” Stewart Chadwick said.
“For who?” I asked.
“Me, of course. Guess who has been assigned to investigate you and your buddies?”
“If you’re calling, I assume it’s you.”
“You got it on the first try. Guess what else?” he asked with glee.
“Just tell me, Mr. Chadwick.”
“Careful. I’m not sure I like that tone of voice. You need to be nicer to the one person who holds your future in their hands,” he warned me.
“What do you want, Stewart?” I asked.
“Why, I want you to back off on your commitment to Michigan, of course. I want you to do what I told you I wanted to begin with. I want you to get the goods on Southwest Central State and their dirty program.”
“If I don’t?” I asked.
“Then I’ll yank your amateurism certification and put a block on you signing with anyone. I’ll do it to your friends as well. I’ll say that until we finish the investigation, it would be irresponsible to allow you to potentially damage the fine reputation of one of our member institutions. We can’t have that kind of taint spread by someone who takes money to play. I’m also afraid that the investigation might take a long while,” he threatened.
“Are you sure that’s how you want to play it?” I asked.
“If you don’t play ball, you’ll learn the full power of the NCAA. Even you, with your money and lawyers, are nothing compared to us. We’ve been playing against bigger foes with deeper pockets than you’ll ever have. We even have Congress in our back pocket. The NCAA would rather crush you than worry about you possibly being a problem. And the thing is, David …”
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t help, then you will be a problem.”
“Stewart, I understand that you’re not happy that I didn’t want to help you entrap Southwest Central State in your sting. I get it. What I don’t understand is why you would go to such lengths to do it. What’s in it for you?” I asked.
“You just never mind about that. I’ll give you a couple of days to think about it. If you don’t come around to my way of thinking, then it’s on you,” he said and hung up.
All my good feelings over the last few days just evaporated. This was a mess.
◊◊◊
Epilogue
Paul rented a town car for our trip home. We’d breezed out of O’Hare because Lexi had the forethought to ship most everything back for us. It was the Sunday before Martin Luther King Day, so traffic was light getting out of Chicago. We soon settled in for the hour-and-a-half drive home.
“Are you mad that you have to take Chuck’s place?” I asked.
Paul glanced over. He’d transferred to LA, where the bulk of Fritz’s security business was, when Chuck was brought on.
“I’m not going to lie; I liked the big city. There’s a lot more to do for someone single. I didn’t like the traffic, though, and I look forward to getting a good night’s sleep.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“I lived in an apartment complex where something was always going on at all hours. It will be nice not to be woken at three a.m. with the neighbors screaming at each other.”
“You could have moved,” I suggested.
“Do you realize what rent is in LA?” he asked.
“Kent told me he spent close to five grand a month. My mom usually gets $500 to $850 for her rentals, so I’m sure you’ll save some money.”
